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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459514">Cum Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastemu/pseuds/halfpastemu'>halfpastemu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kurt Cobain breafly mentioned, The Beatles (Band), the bible???</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, because it sounds like john lennon made out of jeans, genuinely surprised no one did this before, i had to start the jennon and jesus/john lennon tags btw, im caling it jennon, im just looking for rare ships and doing gods work, youre welcome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:28:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastemu/pseuds/halfpastemu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>„Holy fuck. Jesus?“ John said in mild dissbelief, his eyes moving between inspecting the blunt in his hand and looking at the man in front of him.</p>
<p>„I don't understand the John Lennon hype at all.“ said Jesus, his eyes squinched and arms hanging limply, looking completely done.</p>
<p>John ignored him, eyes fixiated on the joint he was now holding in both his hands as if it was a priceless relic. „What does Paul put in these?“</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jennon, Jesus Christ/John Lennon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cum Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>„Paul, have they sold yuh tea leaves agai-khm khm khm?“ said John, heavily coughing after an ambiciously hefty breath of their joint.</p>
<p>Paul responded in what sounded like one of George's bloody sitars.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em> Soundtrack: Tomorrow Never Knows </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>„Never mmmmmind.“ Clearly, there was something much stronger than marihuana in that blunt. The recording room started swirling and others' voices and faces started mending into one bohemian melody, leaving John wondering where the chair he was previously perched on dissappered, his eyes wide and fixed on some concept that happened to be passing by, face blank.</p>
<p>He decided to stop trying to focus on percieving the others and spread his limbs on the cold wooden flor to roll around, completely oblivious to the studio microphones or Ringo's drums, which were way too easy to knock down, btw. Something fell on him more than once, but he decided to shrug off the feeling, too busy watching the colours swirl on the cealing.</p>
<p>When it happened the fifth time, though, there was no excuse.</p>
<p>„Jesus Fucking Christ“, said John rubbing the back of his head with his right hand and frowning.</p>
<p>He sat up on the violet-green floor and took to cleaning the screens of his glasses to distract himself from the slight pain. When he felt a pair of hands massaging his sculp, he didn't even stop to question the fact that his own were busy with the glasses. The massaging movements were so precise and delicate that he leaned into them, bumping his back into a pair of knees covered by a long, soft fabric.</p>
<p>The bohemian music abruptly stoped as John turned his head to look around. „Oh God- „ he started, but stopped himself the moment he noticed a tall, brown man with a beard and long curly hair stare back at him.</p>
<p>„Not really, but very close.“ Said the man and pushed John's head back so he was once again looking forward and continued massaging, seamingly unfazed.</p>
<p>How did another hobo get into their studio? Honestly, George and him thought they'd solved the problem last week. Ringo probably forgot to lock the back door again, bloody wanker. And now John's got to get rid of this bloke while he still can, awfully clingy, the London hobos are. And this one clearly has some mesiah complex or something.</p>
<p>„Look, mate, what ever you're trying to sell, or some religion you want me to join, i don't fucking care. Get off my property.“ said John trying to raise to his feet and puff out his chest to frighten the intruder, joint still intact in his hand.</p>
<p>„I'm behind you.“ the hobo said, sounding like he was trying not to facepalm because of John's disorientation. But what really pissed John off was that he said that in such an entitled tone, like he wasn't a freaking trasspasser.</p>
<p>John took a deep breath in, his brows furrowing, and then turned to face the intruder. „Now who the hell do you think you-“ he said with a stern look on his face and his pointer finger threatning almost directly in the man's face. And it was at this precise moment, when John managed to look the person in the eye properly for the first time, that a realization settled in his brain.</p>
<p>He was dressed in a white toga, so white in fact, that John's eyes hurt looking directly at him, despite the colourful and trippy studio walls that sorrounded them. His eyes widened.</p>
<p>„Holy fuck. Jesus?“ John said in mild dissbelief, his eyes moving between inspecting the blunt in his hand and looking at the man in front of him.</p>
<p>„I don't understand the John Lennon hype at all.“ said Jesus, his eyes squinched and arms hanging limply, looking completely done.</p>
<p>John ignored him, eyes fixiated on the joint he was now holding in both his hands as if it was a priceless relic. „What does Paul put in these?“ he asked and then turned to face Jesus with a questioning face, seeming deeply troubled. It lasted for a second and as Jesus was just about to answer that question:</p>
<p>„Oh btw, sorry about the whole Beatles are bigger than Jesus fiasco, but not really.“ John interrupted casualy, the shock of seeing Jesus in the flesh completely gone. I mean, the guy could've at least worn pants.</p>
<p>„I've had my revenge. Who do you think gave the Americans the idea to start burning your vinyls?“ Jesus replied calmly, but with a hint of menace in his voice.</p>
<p>John gasped with a frown and a hand on his own mouth. His eyes narrowed. „That was you?“ he frowned. „ Bloody Catholic.“ he said his voice now full of disgust.</p>
<p>"Why did I even bother coming here if you're just gonna insult me-" Jesus sighed.</p>
<p>"Why DID you come?" geniune curiosity sparked John's voice, but it came out sounding rude. Standing this long tripped out made his brain foggy. He sat down, ungraciously falling on his arse, staring at Jesus the whole time.</p>
<p>"Don't you remember calling me?" Jesus sounded exhausted with the conversation.</p>
<p>"I couldn't even tell you which day it is, if I'm being honest." John said, taking a long breath of the joint and closing his eyes on the exhale. The bit of anger he had leaving him completely. After all, he couldn't just try to throw Jesus out of the studio- the guy's probably packed with the Holy Spirit of body buliding or something. He started moving to offer Jesus a puff and then quickly moved his hand back after realizing who he was offering it to.</p>
<p>"Ahhh, who can." Jesus's frustration broke and face calmed down."One day I'm ONE minute late for saving Kurt Cobain from shooting himself, the next I'm stuck answering prayers for a decade." he paused, frustration written in his new scowl. "AND He took my multidimensional record player." Sounding like a teenager complaining about his parents. He moved to sit next to John on the floor.</p>
<p>"Who's-"- John tried to ask, very much confused, but Jesus put his finger on John's lips whispering a soft "Don't go there." and then pointing towards the joint in John's hand, half of which was now burned ashes edging to fall on his dirty, bootcut jeans. John was trying not to focus on the softness of the finger previously on his lips.</p>
<p>"May I?"</p>
<p>He hesitated for a moment, but decided to offer the poor man some consolidation. He wasn't heartless after all, even if this blunt was priceless. Godly, you could say. He moved his hand to pass Jesus the king-sized, half-burnt blunt with a shrug.</p>
<p>" Damn, must be tough. How'd you even get here? I swear you just meterialized behind me." John watched Jesus concentrate on taking a smoke, suprised by the man's agility. He knew it. Jesus WAS a hippie ahead of his time.</p>
<p>"My car's parked right there." he calmly pointed across the room, where there was a printed, yellow Beetle Volkswagen. There were purple hibbiscus flowers printed on the vehichle's whole. John was impressed, his brows raising and chin nodding.</p>
<p>"Did you know Hitler commisioned those?" Jesus said after a small silence.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Soundtrack: Come Together </strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>A bang of Ringo's drumms woke John from his sleep. Paul and George were standing beside his makeshift bed on the floor.</p>
<p>"What the hell happened?" screamed Paul.</p>
<p>"The opposite, actually." John rose to his feet, his head spinning and sending him back down. The others have given up on him and started sorting all the microphones he supposedly took down himself, although he was sure Paul did some of the damage himself and left early with the others while they still weren't quite sober. As his arse hit the still warm floor, he heard a crunch of paper and quickly zipped his pants not remembering how they got unzipped in the first place. He patted his back pocket and felt a tiny piece of folded papirus.</p>
<p>Upon opening the folds, the note read a simple: "087 777 7777 Call me &lt;3" in neat, swirly, golden cursive.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading if anyone does &lt;3<br/>My friend and I were talking about John looking like a modern Jesus, and the idea was born. At first I wrote it as a joke for her, but then I saw that there aren't any other Jennon fics on ao3, so I HAD to post it.<br/>This is officially the FIRST EVER John Lennon/Jesus Christ fan fiction on ao3. :D</p>
<p>Anyways, here's some fun facts for when you wanna sound smart:</p>
<p>The Beatles did genuinely face a lot of backlash in the United States after John said they were "bigger than Jesus to some kids". They of course had to apologize on many interviews, but it only worsened the situation. Vinyls were burned by Christian groups in southern american states and there were even events organized for massive burnings of Beatles paraphernalia in early August, 1966.<br/>Also:<br/>The iconic Beetle car was commissioned in the 1930s by Adolf Hitler as the "people's car" (or volks wagen in German, hence the name of the modern car company, Volkswagen).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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